


My heart scares you, but a gun doesn't?

by Redandblackassassin



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Love/Hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 12:36:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11208219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redandblackassassin/pseuds/Redandblackassassin
Summary: Manon Blackbeak. A girl everybody fears, apart from Dorian. He's determined to show her what love is. Just how far will he go for the girl he's falling for?





	My heart scares you, but a gun doesn't?

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for a while, unable to find the perfect scenario to match this quote. The quote (and title),which I strangely love, is from the movie ‘Suicide Squad.’ It’s in a deleted scene. Chapter two will be up...eventually.

Dorian’s heart pounded as he ran through the streets of New York, racing to catch up with the white-haired goddess. He’d had enough of this. Enough of her lies. He’d helped her, but for what cost? Dorian thought that what they shared was eventual love, but now, he knew that it was all a lie. An act. A flicker of moon-white hair around the bend brought him back.

“Manon!” he yelled as he skidded around the corner. He almost hissed at himself. Why did she have to be so much faster than him? That’d what you get for being a lazy college student, Dorian Havilliard. He quickened his pace, certain that he’d need to get a new pair of Converse. Why couldn’t you just stay away from her? Why couldn’t you just- His thoughts were banished when he collided with a bin, and tumbled to the ground, cutting his knees and wrecking his burgundy jumper. He groaned in pain, but managed to sit up and gently touched a sore spot on his knee. He couldn’t check the damage, due to his black jeans being too tight, but the slight wetness proved that blood was shed.

“Are you..alright?” He looked up beneath his ebony curls to find Manon, peering down at him with that curious look he adored. She was wearing her usual attire; all black, with one red article. This time, a red scarf. Dorian moaned.

“What do you think?” he spat out. She winced slightly. _Slightly_. At his words. She was Manon Blackbeak, she didn't _flinch._ He looked back down at his hands, only to look back up when Manon tugged at an ebony curl of his hair. Lightly, so it didn’t hurt him. She was a violent twenty-six-year-old, but it seemed she was the opposite with him.“Don’t go into a moping mess, Dorian.” Her voice sounded like a mother, scolding a child. Dorian yanked his hair free from her grip, and painfully stood up.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t run away from me.” Dorian moaned.

“What would you have done if I stayed?” she asked, seeming genuinely curious.

Dorian thought about it. She’d been at his apartment he shared with Chaol Westfall earlier that night, as she usually did when Chaol was at archery. After a night full of activities he wanted to regret but didn’t, she’d dressed and was just about to leave when Dorian asked, no, _begged_ Manon to stay. She simply frowned at him and left, so Dorian quickly changed and ran after her.

“I would have slept beside you.” He finally said.

She snorted, and Dorian’s heart broke. “We are not lovers, Dorian, never think that.”

“Then what are we?”

“I..I don’t know,” she whispered.

He was about to reply when a drunk came around the corner. “Heya missy, this lad giving you trouble?” the drunk slurred as he leaned against the wall. Manon rolled her eyes, before turning to the drunk.

“No, he’s fine,” she sweetly replied, then whispered, “For now,” to Dorian. He narrowed his sapphire eyes at her. The drunk stumbled dangerously close to Manon.

“Ya sure? I could-“ Before he said anymore bullshit, Dorian snatched the gun from Manon’s holster with fluid grace and aimed it to the drunk. The gun which Manon kept on all day. The only time she didn’t wear it, was when she visited him at night. “Whatdoya think you’re doing, Lad?” Dorian put his finger on the trigger.

“Get lost,” the blue-eyed student hissed.

He wasn’t going to pull the trigger, as he’d never killed anybody in his life. The drunk held his hands up, staggering back. “I ain’t gonna harm ya, kid.”

“Then get lost,” he coldly said.

The drunk stared at him, bewildered, then said, “Fine,” and turned to Manon. “He’s all yours, missy.” She gave him a fake smile.

“Thanks.“

After her response, he limped away, probably to the next bar, Dorian assumed. Manon hissed and kicked the bin responsible for Dorian’s throbbing knees. When she turned to face Dorian, she smirked and stood before him, so the gun was aimed at her. “Do it,” she taunted.

Hurt spread across Dorian’s face as he said, “ _My heart scares you, but a gun doesn’t?_ ”

“Nothing scares me, Dorian.”

“Nothing but my heart, my love for you, Manon. You don’t reali-“

“Realise what? That what we have is more than lust? That someone like you has fallen for me? You’re wrong about your feelings, Dorian.” She began to walk away. Dorian threw the gun to the ground.

“I’m not wrong and I can prove it.”

“How?”

In answer, he walked over to her and pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, she let herself respond, let herself put one hand on his waist and the other through his soft hair. Then she realised what she was doing and pushed her body away from his. Why was it so easy for Dorian to get to her? She said, “Forget about me, Dorian,” before picking up the gun, and running down the street until she was out of sight and into the darkness.


End file.
